The Conversion Bureau: Warrior
by Zachosis
Summary: "It's been 10 years. You start to forget the things you should remember. And you can't stop remembering the things you should forget. We've always had the power. Not anymore. All we have is each other. We're Ghosts, fighting for something that can't be killed. Soldiers stand against their enemies. But Ghosts haunt them."-David Walker, Call of Duty: Ghosts.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

_Ever since the global collapse of the economy in 2032, humans have been living in poverty, sadness, and oppression. The entire planet was united into a single nation, under the flag of the United Earthen Federation. This new government was struggling to solve the adversities of the species, and its policies were not popular with the general population. The environment was more polluted than ever, and many people were left unemployed. The world was slowly slipping into darkness. But that wasn't the end. About twelve years ago, humanity came into contact with an alien species. These aliens called themselves "Equestrians". _

_They amazed humanity with their knowledge of life and the cosmos, but they were centuries behind in most of their technology. Humanity shared its knowledge with them, and vice versa. The two species had become acquainted in a matter of months. Equestrians were living in Earthen cities and people socialized with them and generally had a good friendship with them._

_This new friendship didn't help the human situation in the least. Humans were still begging for bread in the streets, and the only ones that weren't completely bankrupt were in charge of the largest companies in the world. Unemployment hadn't been as common during the Great Depression a century ago. Suicide rates had soared, and smiles were more rare than a two headed snake._

_It wasn't long until Equestrian and Earthen scientists had collaborated to find a solution to all of Earth's problems. A process called "Ponification". This process was a painless procedure that involved the ingestion, or injection of the newly developed serum into a human patient. Within seconds, their body will have morphed into the form of a pony. The potion came in three different forms: Blue for pegasi; Purple for unicorn; and red for earth. _

_Humans everywhere flocked to the newly opened stations known only as "Conversion Bureaus", hoping for the promise of economic opportunity and happiness. Within the first month of the opening of the Bureaus, over fifty million humans had converted and were happily living in Equestria. Most of which were people of a higher intellectual level._

_After two more years, over forty percent of the human population had converted, leaving behind all of those who refused to give in to the propaganda. Many people were paranoid about the fact that ponies outnumbered them, and feared that they would be forced to worship the Equestrian rulers. Most of these humans joined together and formed the "Human Liberation Front". They started with peaceful protests, but as time went on, they began to physically assault anyone, or anypony, who supported the Bureaus. _

_The government tried to fight them at first, but the HLF fought back, starting a civil war all over the world. Almost everyone had picked a side. Few decided to stay neutral, including Equestria. Humanity had fallen apart. The war seemed useless, and the HLF had far too many followers for the government to try and stop. _

_Equestria had finally decided that humanity hadn't deserved to exist as long as they didn't know "the true meaning of friendship", so they devised a plan. They were going to forcibly convert the entire population. In 2038, Celestia sent a message to all of humanity, speaking directly to their minds using her otherworldly powers. She told them of her intentions, causing panic among the entire population. The Equestrians poisoned the drinking water of Earth, converting every human whose lips it touched. _

_After the initial stradegy of poisoning the water, the troops moved in, converting all else that they could, and even going against their own logic and terminating any who resisted. Within the first three years, the humans had been put on their own endangered list. _

_Now, in 2048, less than five percent of the initial human population remains. The survivors are forced to either turn themselves in to the Equestrians or rummage through the rubble to salvage whatever is left. The Equestrians are still hunting, and they aren't going to stop until the last human is gone._


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Do you know what it feels like to be alone? To wander about the ruins of your old home, hoping to keep away from all things that will remind you of your close friends and family? It isn't a pleasant feeling. I try not to think too much about my past, because if I let that get into my head, I lose focus. You can't really pay attention to your surroundings when an old memory of your mother is circulating through your head.

My name? That isn't that important right now, but in case someone ever wants to know the name of the last human alive, it's Arvel. I'm 25 years old. I won't bother telling my last name, many find it hard to pronounce. That's what I get for being from the strangest country in the world. My country's name doesn't matter anymore, as it died with the rest of society.

The past is all behind me. The only things I have time to remember are what supplies I have in my bag. There is one thing that I fail to forget. What got me into this mess. They struck with such force. The world's militaries were already crippled from the civil war. I thought humanity was going to be the end of itself, but the Equestrians swooped in at the last second and mopped up the remains.

Now the only survivors of this dead planet have nothing to do but survive as long as possible. It seems to be no use anymore, as we will all die at some point. I have no idea if I will die tomorrow, in 50 years, or even in a few seconds. Caution is crucial. Make a single wrong step, and a building could collapse, thus alerting the patrols. Boom, you're done.

I was only fifteen when this all started. I was forced to kill many, many people in order to get where I am today. It's funny. You would think that humanity would join together and help each other through this dilemma. But we are a species full of hate. Hate used to be determined if you were the victim of some asshole in a video game. Now, hate was freely given out. As if in bundles.

I don't see very many humans. When I do see them, they're either cannibals, bandits, or just innocent travelers who want to be friends. After years of survival with no knowledge of who is friendly or not, you learn to trust no one but yourself. I make VERY few exceptions. The last guy who I let join me had decided that it would be a good idea to go into the open to get into a decayed vehicle. I watched as he was shot down by a sniper.

He was a nice guy. He was delightful, he was conversational, and he put me in a good mood with his horrible jokes. It was unfortunate that he wasn't too bright. You have to be smart in this world. If you aren't smart, you are already dead.

During the day, it used to be pretty safe to move around without seeing any patrols of pegasi, but they became more active at night, because they knew that humans had practically turned nocturnal. Many resistance forces tried to move supplies around under the cover of darkness, only to meet ponification. By now, they were active during both day and night. Humans were in a tight spot.

I began to let the memories of that fateful first day get into my head. I remembered what happened to my parents right in front of my eyes. No tears escaped my eyes, as emotions were of no value now. I got my head straight and focused on my goal. I had to get back to my camp before nightfall. I was already tired because I had to run to avoid a group of pegasi that tried to chase me until I went down into the subway. They knew that bad things waited down there, and they didn't want to be trapped in the fatal funnel.

The broken tile crunched under my shoes and I kept my ears open. The tracks had been flooded years ago and small fish moved around in the murky water. I would catch a few for dinner, but I didn't have any kind of gear for that. For now, all I had was my rifle. I made the mistake of leaving all of my gear back at my camp, along with all of my extra ammo. But now, I was glad. If I had all of that extra weight, I wouldn't have been able to run a way from the pegasi.

I used my sweaty, dirty flannel shirt as a towel and wiped my face. I dared not to drink the water from the flooded subway. There had to still be traces of the potion in it, plus other things that could hurt my health. I wiped my hair aside and took a few deep breaths. I ran along the dark halls of the subway until I found sunlight emerging from another staircase leading up into the streets.

I lightly jogged over and cautiously took one step at a time, hugging the wall. I stuck my head up to make sure the cost was clear. The tall buildings had large craters in them at some spots and the overgrowth just made them weaker. When I saw nothing, I continued to run into an old hotel. I had been using this place as a camp for a few weeks now. Perhaps it was time to move. The enemy activity was growing more intense each day.

As soon as I got inside, I slung my rifle around my back. I could relax now. I went up the emergency staircase to the 13th floor, where my camp was. I guess it wasn't really a camp, more of just a hiding spot. Charred spots on the wall, holes, and a few empty shell casings had determined what was happening here in the past. I blocked the door to the stairs. Walking down the hallway, I looked into the area where the corridor opened up and the elevators sat side by side. A few piles of old rags and fallen chips of paint amplified the desolation and abandoned feeling. I went to the room where I had all of my stuff. I set my rifle on the bed.

I put my pistol's holster on my belt, but my pistol was nowhere in sight. I looked around the room. Under the bed, in the drawers, but I couldn't find it. My worries were put to rest when a pistol hovered in front of my face, a blue glow all around it. I put my hand up to it and the glow died down. I put the pistol in my holster and turned around. A blue unicorn mare stood in the doorway.

I forgot to mention, I have a "roommate". I'm not really stuck with her, but I couldn't cast her out there alone. Bad things happen to ponies when they're alone and humans are prowling about.

"Where were you, Arvel? Trixie was beginning to get worried."

Yeah, she talks in the third person.

"I found one can of beans, but that's it. I was almost caught by another patrol of pegasi." I said.

"You shouldn't keep going out there alone. Trixie might not see you again. Trixie doesn't like to be lonely."

"I know, Trixie. I don't want you to get hurt either, though. I know this city well, and you don't. It's best if you stay here."

"Trixie understands your compassion. If you think it is best, then I can't argue."

"Hehe."

"What is so amusing?"

"When I first met you, you refused to do anything I said, and you still referred to yourself as 'The Great and Powerful Trixie'."

"Things change. Trixie now knows to be more considerate and friendly."

"Okay. The talking in the third person thing is starting to annoy me."

I found her alone and cold under a tarp. She told me that she was just lost. I brought her along with me because I found her to be adorable. Yeah, I have a soft spot for cute things. After a while, she said what actually happened to her. She had been banished from Equestria. I didn't say a single word about the subject ever again.

Over the months, Trixie has grown quite attached to me, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't growing attached to her. I'm not in love with her or anything, but she was a good friend. I would be crushed if something happened to her. She was a pretty good cook, when it came to canned vegetables. She made me feel less alone.

I unconstricted my shirt from around my torso. I was going to have to find a new one pretty soon. This one was getting pretty small and choked me like a boa. I would probably have to find a heavy coat and better pants, too. It was already Autumn and Winter wasn't too far away. I just had to be careful about the coat I got.

(Note to self: Don't ever use a nylon coat again. The sound of it rubbing against itself and anything around it makes too much noise.)

A few years ago, I found a nice thick military field jacket in a surplus store. Russians sure do know how to make warm clothing. It was also the best camouflage I could get my hands on. The entire store was almost completely cleaned out, except for little children's t-shirts and small, useless things like that. I got good use out of it, but I ruined it when it rubbed against a destroyed car and the entire back was torn. Over the next few days, my movements made the gash bigger and bigger until I couldn't use it anymore. I may have all of the gear that I need, besides a more reliable weapon, but I had neglected to carry around a sewing kit.

Things like that had no real value to me. I only had so much room for all of my gear. For example, as said before, Winter was coming. It snows a lot here, and that means that I'm going to need boots to prevent my feet from freezing. I usually saved a spot in my bag for my tennis shoes, which were also getting too small. I would probably just procrastinate this year and find new shoes in Spring.

Trixie walked into my room and I kept my back turned on her as I counted my ammo. I didn't have much; twenty five 9 millimeter; seventeen .308 caliber; ten 12 gauge shells. I didn't even have a shotgun. I would like one, but I haven't seen one since I was a kid. My rifle was an old hunting rifle that I found in some old guy's basement. It was clearly older than I was, maybe made in the late 20th century. I also carried another old weapon. A Baretta M9. The design itself was old, but it had been upgraded multiple times and soon became the standard issue sidearm for the Federation's army.

Trixie put her hooves around my shoulders and nuzzled my cheek with hers. I didn't know if she was attracted to me, but I wasn't going to let her actions cloud my mind.

"Trixie, if you are trying something, stop. It won't work."

"What do you mean, Arvel? I'm just lending a comforting hoof."

"I feel like you have really been coming on to me lately. Don't get me wrong. I like you, but not in that way."

"I can assure you, I am not trying to do anything of the nature."

"Alright. Oh, hey! You said 'I'."

She looked at me as if what I said was incredibly stupid.

"Trixie just had a slip of the tongue."

"Aw, damn. I like it more when you don't refer to yourself like that."

We shared a good chuckle. I returned to my spot near my gear stash and recounted the ammo. Trixie returned to her spot as well, looking outside for patrols heading towards the hotel. We had the windows covered up with old curtains and wooden planks, so they couldn't see us, but we could see them.

"Arvel?"

"Yes, Trixie?"

"Do you mind if I am on guard tonight?"

'_Heh. There she goes with 'I' again.'_

_"_Why?" _  
_

"Trixie has been napping all day while you were out, and you haven't slept in days."

'_And there it goes.'_

"No, Trixie, I'm fine."

"No, you need sleep to maintain your health! Trixie won't take no for an answer."

I looked at the crooked painting on the wall. I could still see the places where the brush had done its magnificent strokes. I got up from the bed and straightened it out.

"Are you sure? If something happens, you know to yell for me, right?"

"Absolutely. They would be lucky to get through Trixie!"

"Alright, then. Thanks."

"No need to thank me. Trixie is happy to do her part."

I turned around to face the bed, which was freshly made with semi-clean sheets. Trixie must have done it while I was gone. Perhaps I could just catch up on my lost sleep now. There was nothing besides those pegasi that could get us. Trixie was a very powerful unicorn, so anyone, or anypony who got in would enter a world of pain.

I put my pistol on the nightstand and took off my boots. I lay down on the bed, which remarkably was still comfy, and I closed my eyes. Not seconds later, I heard a crash and the sound of glass shattering. I looked over at the wall, and the painting wasn't in its spot. I looked down on the floor and found it face down with bits of glass everywhere.

"What was that?" Trixie called from the other room.

"Nothing, Trixie. A painting fell."

"Oh. Sleep well."

"Thanks."

My eyelids were getting heavier as I thought about sleep, so the second my head hit the pillow, I was out.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

I had the worst dream last night. I was in a room. It was completely white. My voice echoed. I was confused about everything. It felt too real. I had a towel wrapped around my waist. I sat on the cushioned table for a while until _they _came. They pushed me down, holding my arms and legs down with strong hooves. Another one came, and a needle was shoved directly into my chest. That was when I woke up.

I never really had dreams before. I usually just slept soundly. I was a heavy sleeper as a kid, and that has almost gotten me killed multiple times. Old habits die hard. Even if I had dreams, it usually meant something bad was going to happen. I had a dream about the last guy dying, and it happened the next day. This one scared me even worse.

You may be wondering why I'm still human. Why I kill to survive. Why I don't just give up and accept the fact that humanity has been defeated. I have accepted that. I know that there is no way to bring the species back. We are all dead already.

The reason that I keep going is the same reason that America entered World War Two. They attacked me and took from me. It only makes sense that I show that I am not weak. I won't just give up. I won't come along quietly. I am the one guy who stands up in the concentration camp and starts an uprising.

To be ponified is to show weakness. It says, "Alright, you won. I lost."

Humanity had a good run. It can't end so soon. But that doesn't matter now. What matters is surviving. Once the ponies give up and leave, then we will come out and rebuild. As long as they are here, we are savages.

I walked into the elevator room where Trixie sat, reading a human book. Once she saw me, she levitated the book mark in and closed it. She set it next to her on her pillow. I pulled over a folding chair and sat on it backwards, facing her.

"What're you reading?"

"An old book called 'The Outsiders'."

"Really? That's a great book. I had to read it as a freshman in high school."

"Trixie finds the main character's name somewhat... strange? A human called Ponyboy? That is quite odd."

"Well, it even says so on his birth certificate." I said, referring to the quote in the book.

She giggled and looked at the cover.

"Trixie finds the concept intriguing. The less smart, thuggish Greasers and the high class, clean and collected Socs? It reflects the current situation. You humans are the Greasers, and us ponies are the Socs. I guess I am like Cherry. I am a pony, but I side with the humans now. One human in particular. The Greasers, or humans, want nothing other than to be left alone and to govern things their own way. The Socs, Equestria, think they are above the Greasers and think Greasers are a menace to society. But neither side is completely right."

I sat there and thought about how deep that sounded. She was right. Humans were just weapon wielding thugs, always looking for trouble. Equestrians claimed to be of a higher distinction. They thought they were a big deal and deserved to be treated better than a human should. I had heard conversations between them. They commonly referred to humans as "things", or "it".

I noticed that I had been spacing out and shook out of my trance. But right before I regained awareness, I heard a sound. It sounded like a powerful flapping. It was louder than a pegasus'.

"Arvel, do you hear that?"

"Hush."

I got up and went to the window. I looked between a small crack between two planks of wood, and my heart skipped a beat. Griffons. A whole company's worth. They were flying around buildings, patrolling the streets and looking through windows. Some were even breaking apart boards that were on other windows, and they were working their way closer to us.

"Trixie, grab all of your gear. We need to move, now."

Trixie understood what was happening and did as I told. She began gathering up all of her supplies in her saddlebag. I ran into my room. I grabbed my rifle and slid the bolt back to reveal a sleek, silver round and released it, making a loud clang. I stuffed all of the ammo I had into the pouches and loops on my vest and stuffed all of my supplies into my bag. The bag was another thing I might need to replace soon. It had straps that had long since torn and were held together with flimsy twine and duct tape. It had various tears and holes on it from the many years of use it had. After all, I had had it since I was in high school.

I threw it onto my shoulders and made sure my pistol was in place. It was securely strapped into its holster and I ran into the other room, rifle in hand. Trixie was all ready, so I motioned for her to come along with me. She trotted across the room and we made our way to the stairs. I began to unjam the door.

"Arvel?"

I looked back towards the elevator room, and wooden planks were being smashed inwards. The sunlight from outside was obstructed by the silhouette of a strong, muscular griffon. I got the door open just before he made it inside. I closed the door, hoping he didn't see anything. I stuck my head up and looked through the small, square pane of glass. The griffon was now looking around the room, but looked unaware of our presence.

Trixie and I began to go as fast as we could down the emergency stairs, making as little noise as possible. Sunlight poured through the windows, illuminating the white stairwell to a blinding level. As we went down, a loud bang was heard and Trixie and I stopped. The bang was followed by voices. Gruff male voices, and raspy female voices. I carefully looked down the stairwell. I could barely see their tails and wings moving about as they went up the spiral stairs.

I motioned for Trixie to follow me and I led us through a door. Another crash was heard, and I saw glass pepper the carpet. The light on the wall gained a large shadow. The griffons were still coming up the stairs, as I could still hear their voices growing closer. We had only made it down about ten floors. I grabbed Trixie and practically dove into the cleaning closet. I shut the door and covered Trixie's mouth. I could see their shadows moving under the door.

"I know there is one here! I can still smell them!" Said a low, male voice.

"Split up, look in all of these rooms. Their scent is strong here."

Fuck. There was no way of escaping now, or was there? I had to think up a spur-of-the-moment plan, and what I came up with was crazy. One of the shadows stopped at the closet we were in. I moved Trixie aside and pulled out my eight inch long hunting knife. I sat at the door and put my shoulder to it.

The handle began to turn, and the door began to open ever so slowly. Then, I threw all of my weight into the door and it hit the griffon in the face. He shouted and grabbed his beak, and I used this to my advantage. While he was stunned, I grabbed him by the neck and drove my knife deep into his throat. He began to exhale violently, then a disturbing gargling sound. I twisted the knife in his neck and slashed to the side, almost cutting his head halfway off.

He fell to the floor in a heap. Blood already began spurting out of his neck, and he made his final exhale before going limp. Trixie left the closet and hid behind me as I threw the griffon's body into the closet. That probably wasn't going to do much, because there was already a spot of blood on the carpet the size of Rhode Island.

I closed the door and ran down a clear hallway, Trixie in tow. I soon heard voices behind me.

"They killed him! There! Get them!"

The griffon pointed at me and Trixie, and one of them began to fly down the hallway. I used the barrel of my rifle to smash the window. Trixie jumped onto the scaffolding. Just as I took a step out, something hit me in the back, knocking the wind out of me. I dropped my rifle and it fell down to the street. I drew my knife again and stabbed the griffon that was holding me in the gut, making him cringe. His wings folded, and we plummeted downwards to the streets.

I moved his body under me, in hopes that his body would cushion my fall. He was still alive however, and tried to flap his wings to the best of his ability. He lessened the angle of descent to the ground, and I held on to his claws for dear life. We were only about ten feet off of the ground now, and he had flattened out his path. He shook me off and I fell down, landing hard on the cracked cement. The griffon then crashed about a hundred feet away.

I got to my feet and looked around. I looked at the hotel and saw a small blue figure moving down the scaffolding, firing bolts of magic at the griffons who were flying about, trying to get at her. I limped over, trying to find some way of helping her get down. I drew my pistol and began firing potshots into the air at the griffons. I succeeded in scaring a few off, but a couple of brave ones shifted their focus from Trixie to me. They dove downwards, and I got a good shot on one, going straight through his wing, making him spin out and hit the face of the building.

I began to run once I saw the other one bare his claws and dive straight towards me. I began to run in the opposite direction, but I felt myself being lifted upwards into the air by my backpack straps. The griffon had dug his claws into the bag and was trying to life me up so he could drop me to my death. I heard the rugged straps begin to tear and rip. Suddenly, one of them gave way, and I fell down to the street, about a two story fall. I landed hard on my leg, the one which had already been injured from the previous fall.

The griffon dropped my bag and it hit the hood of a car, sending its contents everywhere. There goes a lifetime worth of scavenging. There was no way I would be able to pick it all up with all of the griffons around. The griffon that just made an attempt at my life made the fatal mistake of stopping to see where I had gone. I used this chance to fire a few shots his way, hitting him twice. He went down, dead before he hit the ground.

I turned around to see Trixie just getting off of the scaffolding and onto the ground. She ran up to me, immediately starting a healing spell. I felt the effects start to dull the pain in my leg, and a few cuts and bruises disappeared.

"Stop, there's no time. Come on. Let's see what we can carry." I said.

We went over to the supplies, which were spread all around the car where the backpack hit. I managed to stuff a few bandages and a pair of binoculars into the pockets of my pants. I got a few other supplies that I thought we would need more than the others, and Trixie was able to fit quite a few things into her saddlebags. The griffons soon began closing in, and we were forced to run away from the site. We left behind a flashlight, several batteries, tons of medical supplies, matches, my gun cleaning kit, and other things that would help a lot.

We made it into the subways, and the griffons stopped dead in their tracks. Even they wouldn't go in there. We hugged the walls, blanketed by the darkness, and stood still. The griffons had lost sight of us, and hovered outside, waiting for us to come out. But we weren't safe, we were far from safe. With my heavy backpack gone, I felt lighter than air. I only had my pistol, my vest, my knife, and the gear I managed to scrounge up from the ground.

I felt like I had just started again. But then again, I was more mobile now. The activity in the city was definitely increasing. Maybe it was time to get out. But how? There had to be a vehicle somewhere in the city that worked. Maybe we could use a boat? The river wasn't that far away. I still had to take into account the fact that there were constant patrols, and they would stop at nothing to erase all traces of human life in this city.

We were far from safe.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

It was evidently getting colder. My flannel shirt wasn't warm enough, that was for sure. We had been staying in this subway station for a few days now, sharing a single can of food a day. All of my other food was still outside among the decayed city, now covered in a thin layer of snow. The first snow of the year. It was only early November, but now I guess it's the ponies who determine what happens with the weather.

Why they would make it snow this early, I have no idea. It either snows this early in Equestria, or they wanted to catch us humans off guard and freeze us to death. Trixie was already growing out her winter coat, making her look fuzzy and softer. She offered some warmth when we slept in the same bed roll, as mine was lost. The griffons still hovered about every once in a while, and I wasn't going to take any chances and make a break for my gear.

These were all problems that I had to take care of eventually. I used up almost half of my ammo for my pistol, and now I had a bunch of rifle ammo, but no rifle. There was no way it would have survived that fall. I felt helpless. Without a rifle, I felt weak. That rifle guided me out of an HLF ambush. Those bastards don't even care if you're human anymore. If you aren't with them, you die. I was lucky that it was only a few guys, and I was able to take care of myself.

Being alone hardens you. It makes you push feelings and mental burdens aside and make way for physical strength and endurance. Those guys definitely looked well fed, and they couldn't keep up with me when I ran. I felt like a muscular machine, but in reality I looked like a bag of bones. Just thinking about these things made me hungry. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop thinking about food. A big, juicy, rack of ribs with barbecue sauce...mmmm.

I couldn't take it anymore. I checked to make sure my Baretta was ready to fire, and went over to Trixie. She was sitting by the small fire we made, staring into the flames. She looked up at me and stood up immediately.

"Arvel? What are you doing?"

I began to walk towards the stairs leading up into the streets.

"We need stuff. Food, clothes. I'll be back."

"Arvel, wait!"

"Stay here, Trixie. I don't want you getting hurt. Just sit by that fire. You know that if anyone besides me comes close to you, you kill them dead. Make sure the life has left their eyes and they aren't twitching anymore. I don't care if they want to be friends. Kill them."

Trixie looked stunned. I had never asked her to kill anyone. Sure I asked her to defend the camp and things like that, but I never told her to kill. She took a deep breath and regained her posture.

"Aye aye." She said.

"Alright. I'll be back shortly."

With that, I cautiously walked up the stairs with my pistol drawn. I scanned the whitened street and looked up to the sky, which was a blank white nothing, and large snowflakes landed gingerly on my face and shoulders. I opened my mouth and tried to catch some. Upon contact with my lips, they melted, making my chapped lips sting. Other than that, my mouth felt better now that it wasn't completely dry. I was unable to produce saliva, and my tongue felt like sandpaper. But the snow was like an oasis in the middle of an endless desert. I checked to see if my supplies were still there, but a lot of it was gone. Who took it? I have no idea. I got what was left and brought it back to the tunnel.

I continued on my way, watching the skies for any more pegasi or griffons. The griffons had apparently been hired by Equestria to seek out any stragglers in the human world, as they had a better sense of sight and smell than the ponies. They were efficient hunters and ruthless killers. Once, I watched them pull a guy out of an RV and then rip him to shreds with their claws. Then they took his body away. I had no idea where they were going with it, or why, but I was glad that they had broken his neck before they did all of this. It looked painful.

Pegasi were a different story. I would definitely rather fight them. They basically refused to kill anything, and they were rarely equipped with the potion, so I was able to get away from them fairly easily. I have never had to kill too many of them, and I even felt bad doing it. They were just doing their job. But I was surviving. I did what I had to do. I have been picked up by one before, but the trick to getting them to drop you is grabbing one of their wings. Wings are apparently a sensitive spot, and without two wings, they can't fly.

However, the pegasi have gotten faster, as I have seen some patrols wearing that famous blue and yellow suit. Wonderbolts. They were the best fliers in Equestria, and they could definitely be my demise. They were tough, smart, and fast. I have seen propaganda posters near the bureaus about them, and they looked very professional. The leader, Spitfire, was a cold, mean mare on the training course, but she was very nice and delightful when she wasn't.

I would know, because I knew her. My father was in an executive place in the government, but not quite president, so he was constantly having parties in our house. Ponies and humans alike showed up and were friends for those few hours. The Wonderbolts were honored guests at every party, and since the party was in my house, I usually stayed in my room, playing video games. I wasn't in the mood to socialize with a bunch of stuck up, rich adults.

*Flashback* (Third person)

Franz Sarvekjov is chatting with friends and guests. He is holding a glass of wine in his hand, trying to be happy. The home has a wonderfully decorated modern look. Some of the Wonderbolts stood in another group, chatting with pony guests.

"So I've heard that Mr. Sarvekjov has a son." One of them said.

"Yeah, he does."

"I feel bad for him, his mother just passed away two weeks ago." the same mare said.

"Wow. He must be crushed. This is a tightly knit family." Another said.

"How old is he?" Spitfire asked.

"Fourteen."

"Oh my gosh. That's way too young to be losing a mother."

"That's really sad. I've heard that human teens usually commit suicide when they're sad."

"Rose, that isn't true. That's what the propaganda wants you to think. When humans hit adolescence, they have a harder time coping with the changes."

"Yeah, and he is just at that point in his life. I hope he's okay."

"You know what? I'm gonna talk to him. He has been alone upstairs for hours and he hasn't shown his face. Where's Mr. Sarvekjov?" Spitfire asked.

A mare pointed him out in the crowd. Spitfire walked over to Franz.

"Excuse me, Mr. Sarvekjov?"

"Yes?"

"Which room is your son's? I want to speak with him."

"Second door to your left when you get up there." He said, sounding mildly depressed.

"Thank you. And I'm sorry for the loss of your wife."

"Thank you, Spitfire. But she's in a better place now. Better than this hell hole I call home."

"I like to believe that she's happier now too. Thanks for inviting me."

"No problem."

Spitfire went up the stairs and over to the second door on the left, like Franz said. She put her ear to the door. Various explosions and gunshots emanated from inside.

'_Humans and their violent video games.'_

She knocked on the door. After a few seconds, the sounds stopped, and he replied.

"Yes?"

"Hey, kid. I want to talk to you."

"Why?"

"I just want to help you."

After a long while, the door opened. A tall teenager stood in the doorway. He had a small beard growing from his chin and peach fuzz on his upper lip. His hair was long, and he had bags under his eyes.

"You're a Wonderbolt aren't you?"

"Yeah. I'm Spitfire."

"I'm Arvel."

"Can I come in?"

"Sure, whatever."

Spitfire came into Arvel's room as he stepped aside. The walls were a dark blue and there were posters of various video games and rock bands all over. The large television was on the pause menu for his video game, and a long couch was set about ten feet away. The controller sat on the cushion. One thing in the room stood out among the others. A piano. A wooden, old, grand piano was huddled in the corner.

Arvel sat down on the couch and unpaused the game. It was some sort of World War Two game about warplanes. Arvel began playing, and Spitfire sat on the couch next to him.

"Listen, Arvel, I'm sorry about your mother."

"Don't bring her up. I'm trying to forget about her."

"You shouldn't forget about her just because she's passed away."

"In my head. I'm trying to forget her in my head. I'll still remember her in my heart. She was amazing. She was so beautiful, so nice, so caring."

"I've heard. She sounds like she was a wonderful woman."

"Yeah. And now she's gone."

"Kid, you have something to learn, don't let yourself waste away just because of this. This shouldn't change anything. You should still be social, make friends, be more outgoing."

"She was the only reason I did any of that. And besides, I still socialize, I have friends."

He pointed to his video game. Spitfire facehoofed.

"Don't be so depressed, kid. You're starting to bum me out."

"You have no idea what I feel like."

"No, no, no. You're wrong. I lost my parents, both of them, when I was your age."

Arvel stopped what he was doing and looked at her.

"What?"

"That's right. They were flying in a bad storm and were struck by lightning. Of course, I was just like you for a while, but I eventually accepted it. It's the circle of life. Everyone dies. It's fate's choice on when to take them, though. It's okay, kid. I know how you feel. I just want you to remember her for who she was to you, and not who she was in general."

Arvel's eyes started to tear up. Spitfire put her legs out, and Arvel embraced her in a hug. He sobbed into her shoulder and she gently massaged his back.

"Shh, shh. It's okay, Arvel. You'll make it through this. I'll help you."

*End Flashback*

That was one of the best days of my life. Spitfire comforted me whenever she could, visiting me and talking to me. My father remarried to another woman, and Spitfire and I began to hang out a lot more, growing closer and closer, even though she was 6 years older than me. But the visits were cut short when the mass conversion commenced. Then I was alone again. Alone to fend for myself.

Damn it. I was letting my past get to me again. My dried up tear ducts were going to work, and I wiped my eyes before anything could get out. I shifted my focus back onto finding supplies. Food was the first thing on the list. I could try a store, but they were usually cleaned out. I often find myself thinking about the places I'm going through. Every place has their own story.

As I walked through a corner store, I noticed several things about it that told the story. There were bullet holes. There was a fight here. There was an old mattress near the wall, along with a small lamp and a backpack. Someone used to camp out here. One thing really hit me hard. A bib and an old jar of baby formula. Whoever was here, they had a baby.

I pushed those thoughts out of my head and searched the site. I looked around the mattress and found a lot of empty cans. Among them, two unopened cans of corn. I pocketed them and kept looking. In the backpack, there was nothing useful other than a small LED flashlight and two extra batteries. The backpack was in horrible condition, so I couldn't use it. Upon searching throughout the corner store, I found half of a role of electrical tape, but nothing else useful.

I left the store, making sure that the skies were clear. I stuck close to the shrubs and bushes on my way to the next building, although with the current attire I had on, I would stick out like a sore thumb. Even though my red plaid shirt was thickly coated in dirt, it was still really bright. It was the same with my jeans. I loathed for some nice military clothing. I haven't seen much military property. Maybe a humvee here and there, but they never had anything I could use. They had all either been abandoned or looted. I have heard that there is a military ordinance center in the city's outskirts, but I have also heard that it is heavily guarded by HLF members.

Those bastards really have no idea how hard it is for other survivors. They get to sit down, drink beer, and have a grand old time in their so called "havens". But I know them. Anyone that they see who isn't part of them gets captured, tortured, and has their throat slit. Ponies have it even worse when they are captured by the HLF. The horrors they go through can't even be described. But then again, I have never seen what they do to ponies.

I continued my slow pace down the street, with large, decaying buildings towering above. I made my way towards another small store, right in between two skyscrapers. As I got closer, I heard what I didn't want to hear. Voices. It sounded to be only two, but I wasn't sure. The front of the store had a large hole from a massive explosion, but the overgrowth made a sort of curtain, giving cover to whomever was inside.

I crept closer and closer. I had no way of knowing what creature may be inside, and the tension in my head was growing. I went over the cracked concrete parking lot and into the small, barren flowerbed. I kept close to the wall and crouched under each window. When I got to the large hole, I checked on my gun. It was primed and ready to fire. I put my hand out and wrapped my fingers around a few vines. With a swift motion, I pushed them to the side and jumped in. What my eyes met was not what I was expecting.

A man, face dark with dirt and soot, was aiming his own pistol my way. Behind him, a woman and a young teen girl. They all had terrified looks on their faces. The man had his finger on the trigger, ready to put a bullet in my head. As I looked closer, they were walking skeletons. They were starving, even worse than I was. They had nothing but the clothes on their backs. It looked to me like they had just seen a ghost. I tried to communicate.

"Okay. Here's what's gonna happen. I'm gonna put my gun away, and you are going to do the same. No one has to get shot."

I slowly put my gun in its holster. With great hesitation, the man lowered his weapon. I took a few steps forward.

"Stay back."

He put his gun back up. I put my hands up. I thought about the cans of corn I just found. I figured that they needed it more than I did. I pulled out the can from the side pocket of my pants and crouched down. I rolled it across the floor, and it hit some garbage and stopped short before it got to them. I slowly backed up and out of the building. The man bent down, his weapon trained on me the whole time, and picked up the can. He looked back up at me and I zipped away, fast walking down the street, back towards the subway. I heard him behind me.

"Thank you!"

I put my hand up and waved behind myself. I had myself and Trixie to feed, but that man had a wife and child. He needed it more. Besides, I still had other food. I went onto the sidewalk that was running under a skyscraper. Thick columns of concrete and wrecked cars blocked the line of sight of anything that might pass. As I jogged, I heard wings again. They sounded like pegasi, but they were getting close fast.

'_Did they see me?'_

I ran into the building through the smashed window. I dropped behind the receptionist's desk and listened closely. The pegasi that had landed close by began to speak.

"I know I heard something over here. Let's check all of these buildings." One of them said.

"Yes, sir." Multiple voices said.

"Not you, Sergeant."

"Yes, sir?"

"Princess Celestia just used her human scanning spell from Equestria."

"And?"

"She says that there are just over 350 million humans still on Earth. And there are only about six thousand in this city alone."

"That's great news, sir!"

"She says that because if our hard work, she wants to reward this battalion exclusively."

"With what?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe promotions?"

This whole thing was digging a hole straight through my heart. I couldn't believe that Celestia was rewarding them for murdering people. Okay, maybe not killing all of them, but forcibly subjecting people to something they don't want to do. Why can't they just leave? Why can't they just let us kill each other and it it will all end? Humanity will be erased. Maybe the Equestrians were the only things keeping us alive? If they weren't here, we would be killing each other left and right, and we would die off a lot quicker.

I had to respect them, though. They were true patriots. Either that, or they've been brainwashed by Celestia. Either way, I didn't hate them. I couldn't hate anything. The HLF came the closest to me hating them.

But "hate" is one of the strongest words in the world. There was already plenty of that.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

As I descended down the stairs leading into the subway station, Trixie looked at me with the same expressionless look as always. I unloaded my pockets next to the fire and sat down in a huff.

"What's wrong, Arvel?"

"Nothing. I just heard a couple of Equestrian troops talking."

"And?"

"There aren't that many humans left. Apparently around 350 million. It may seem like a lot, but that's less than five percent of the original population."

"Oh, Arvel, that's horrible! Why don't they just leave?"

"You know why, Trixie. They're trying to erase humanity, period."

Trixie looked down at the floor and tried to find something to say.

"I had no idea that Celestia could go through with such a heinous act!"

I stayed silent for a few moments.

"I heard that Celestia was supposed to be some motherly, kind, sweet individual. All I have seen from her is hate, alienation, and ignorance."

"She thinks that she can do whatever she wants just because she's royalty. She has obviously never heard the old saying."

"What's that?" I asked.

"With great power comes great responsibility."

"Well, obviously. That's a human saying." I said.

"And a great one at that. She must be very ignorant to think that all of humanity is bad."

"You said it, Trixie."

I lay down, looking up at the hole in the ceiling where the smoke from the fire was venting out, just to dissipate in the cold winds outside. We made sure to use things that made as little dark smoke as possible, but it wouldn't matter. The smoke was being sucked up and mixed with the wind. People, ponies, griffons, or anything else wouldn't be able to tell the difference between the smell of the ashes of the city and the smoke.

It felt like it was getting colder by the minute. I had to go out and find some winter clothing. I grabbed the flashlight and exchanged the battery, just in case, and checked my pistol yet again. I grabbed the small pair of binoculars and put it, and its case, on my belt.

"I'm going out again, Trixie. Stay here."

She nodded and continued to watch the fire crackle. I went up the stairs, and immediately, a cold, strong wind struck me. I crossed my arms close to my chest and set out for what I was looking for. The wind was making the air feel colder than it actually was, and the force of it was blowing up the thin layer of snow that had formed, making small cyclones in some places and pelting my face with snowflakes.

The snow that was hitting my face most likely had small traces of potion in it, but it couldn't do anything in such small amounts. Even if every one of them had it, they couldn't do anything. I knew that in some places, the potion had been naturally filtered out of the fresh water, and in some it just wore out, but I didn't want to take any chances with this city water.

I passed many puddles with a paper thin layer of ice beginning to form on them. It was freezing so fast that I could watch as the ice formed over the whole thing. I stuck to the walls and under overgrowth as not to be spotted. Patrols loved to come out when the weather got cold. They knew that humans would be out looking for warm attire, just like me. I was beginning to question why I didn't carry a jacket with me all the time, but it also remembered that I didn't have enough backpack space. Well, now I didn't even have a backpack.

I squinted as wind and snow hit my face. The snow caught on my eyelashes and I blinked them away. I couldn't last very long being exposed to the wind like this. I took cover behind cars when there were strong gusts of it, and I eventually made it down the street into a clothing store. My mother used to take me to this place, and I used to buy clothes that I liked with holiday money.

'_Damn it. Forget about your past already!'_ I screamed to myself mentally.

I went in where the window used to be, and lucky enough, I saw piles of old clothes everywhere. A few things were still on shelves and racks, ready to be purchased, or salvaged, by the next person inside. I found a pair of blue fleece gloves, and they fit me like a... glove. They were pretty thin, and they weren't very insulating, but they were better than bare hands. I also found a grey t-shirt with the store's name across the front. It was a few sizes too big, as if made for a larger fellow, but bigger was better.

Upon searching around the store a little while longer, I found a black beanie hat that was very thick and comfortable. My fingertips weren't freezing anymore, and neither were my ears. That was a start. I found a tan long sleeve shirt, which was also big. I donned all of my new clothes as soon as I found them. They had stains and small snags and such in them, but I couldn't care less about that. I threw all of my old clothes about upon their replacement.

I couldn't find anything else that might be of use. There were no backpacks, just purses and satchels. I found a few pairs of sunglasses, but I really didn't need them. I had taken everything I had needed out of the store already, but I still needed boots and a jacket. I left the store, half expecting to see my mother's car parked next to the street. Instead, I saw a charred, wrecked, stripped truck. It had a rosary hanging from the mirror. How? I have no idea. The beads were blackened and the cross twirled and swayed in the wind. Seeing religious items in such condition disgusted me.

I kept moving down the street. I knew that there was a sporting goods store a couple of blocks away, and it never saw much business. People in the city never really took an interest in hunting, camping, or any outdoor activity for that matter. But the family that owned it was filthy rich. Once the mass conversion started ("The Purge of Humanity" as I like to call it) I would imagine that the shelves were cleaned out in hours. Still, it was worth a shot.

I walked down the street, battling the cold, looking out for patrols through my squinted eyes. I had never seen Winter come so fast, and hit so hard. I could only imagine what other people in the city were doing. Somewhere, there had to be some douchebag who was just wearing basketball shorts and a tank top, freezing his ass off. You had to be prepared for any circumstance. You could have everything that you need; guns, ammo, survival gear; but then a poisonous snake bites you and you don't have an antidote. Then you're screwed. All of the stuff you have in your pockets and backpack won't help you in the slightest.

After about five or ten minutes of walking, I'm not sure which, I made it to the sporting goods store. It was a family run business, and they were pretty good friends with my parents. I was surprised that there weren't holes in the walls, but the windows were all smashed. I knew that the employees carried weapons on them all the time, whether it was a pocketknife or a shotgun, so maybe they were able to keep people away.

I couldn't see through the windows, as they were all boarded up, so I tried to push the door open. It seemed to be blocked from the other side, so I threw my shoulder into it a couple of times. All that did was give me a sore arm. I walked over to a window and grabbed the support for the awning above. I used it to lift myself up and kick the boards on the window. After doing this a few times, the nails that held it gave way and the barrier fell inside.

I jumped in and drew my pistol. I clicked on my flashlight and looked around. Someone must have been holding out in here. Otherwise, the doors would have been open and the place would be trashed. This place was anything but trashed. The shelves were filled with all sorts of goodies; hiking backpacks, raincoats, fishing rods, and all sorts of wonderful things. Over in the far corner, I could see the top of a wall and it was lined with guns. This was a fairly large store, so I had tons of things to choose from. I had never been so happy in my life.

I still had to check if the store was clear. If it was boarded up, there had to be someone here, whether they were a corpse or not. I looked down each dark isle with care, searching for danger. Once I got to the far left of the store, I noticed dim daylight coming through a hole in the ceiling. The snow was piling up under the hole and I shivered. I looked around that area for any clues about what may have happened. I noticed something protruding from the snow. A little glint of metal, and something blue. I picked it up, and I had immediately gotten an idea about what events took place here.

It was a helmet. A helmet that a pegasus would have worn. Upon searching the helmet, I found two small holes, about the size of buckshot pellets. The pony had been shot upon entering the store. They flew in through a hole from a human caused explosion, and the family who ran this store unloaded on them. I found a lot of brass and plastic shells on the floor, confirming my hypothesis. I followed the trail of casings and they led to an open office door. I found a revolver sitting on the ground, caked with grit, along with a set of clothing. Someone went down here.

I entered the office, noticing small areas of broken glass, most likely from bottles of potion. I found a shotgun lying on the floor in front of the desk, and a small knife near it. Papers were strewn about and the whole office was a mess. I found another handgun on the floor, and many empty magazines and casings. This was where they had their last stand. They were cornered in the office and they ran out of ammo, so they started using blades. Little did they know that after they were gone, their store would continue to help someone, and a family friend at that.

I left the office, as not to disturb the history, and looked around the place for a winter jacket, which was quite easy to find. It was an OD green coat, made out of the same stuff that military personnel would wear. It was insulated with fur, and it fit a little loose on me. I could probably find some better gloves here as well. They weren't far from the coats. I found a perfect pair of winter gloves, not too thick so I could still pull a trigger. My vest fit right over it, and it was like being engulfed in a soft blanket. I took them off so I wouldnt start sweating. The store wasn't cold enough to wear a thick coat like that.

I found a pair of black snow pants, and a nice pair of tan boots. I felt like I could go to Antarctica and stand there for hours and still be warm. I found a camouflage scarf that I could use to wrap around my face. I was in heaven. I finally had a choice. I could pick which color I wanted. I could look at the tags and see what their features were. I had freedom in here. It was almost like a few years ago, when the same thing happened, but it had to kill a bunch of HLF to get it.

I stuffed my gloves in my new coat's pockets and found a green, medium sized hiking backpack. I didn't want to be overburdened. I stuffed tons of supplies into it, only taking what I needed. Matches, a canteen, a gun cleaning kit, and other things. I stopped by the gun corner and checked out the range of selections I could make. There were plenty of shotguns, sniper rifles, and pistols all over the section. I studied the sleek, metal bodies of each weapon, standing on the opposite side of the counter as if waiting for the clerk to help me.

I hadn't found any rifles that took the cartridge that I was currently carrying, so I discarded all of that now useless ammo. I didn't want a sniper rifle again, because almost every engagement I had been in was close range. A shotgun would be good. I still had a lot of room in my bag, so I might take a few boxes of ammo, but I still had to save room for pistol ammo, which I used a lot more often than anything else. I wasn't going to find any, as the newer model of the Baretta that I carried fired a unique cartridge. It may have been a nine millimeter, but the specific dimensions of the cartridge weren't the same 9x19 parabellum rounds that were more common. I wasn't going to find any ammo for my pistol.

I was just going to have to find a new pistol. I set by backpack on the counter, along with my loot, and shone my flashlight into the glass cases that held the pistol collection. I found a few nice Glocks, many Colts (my personal favorite), and other semi-automatic pistols. I couldn't see a revolver being useful, as I needed something with more capacity. I jumped over the counter and tried to open the case, but it was locked. Whatever, I just had to smash the glass. As I hopped over the counter, I thought I heard something creak. I dismissed it and thought that the metal in the case was doing it, but that couldn't have been more wrong.

*Click*

I turned around, and a loud bang followed by an immense pressure and pain in my abdomen sent me down. I was then hit on the head with something, making me fall unconscious.


End file.
